


Behind Closed Doors

by JensonLevi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Abuse, Consensual Non-Consent, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern Assassins, Parkour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensonLevi/pseuds/JensonLevi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik is the owner of a successful company. Altair is an ex-free-runner 'house wife.'</p><p>What happens when all the fame and money get's to Malik's head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE ASS TRIGGER WARNING! IF YOU HAVE A PAST OF ABUSE OR ARE CURRENTLY UNDER ABUSE OR THE THREAT OF IT, DO NOT READ THIS STORY! IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THIS TOPIC, DO NOT READ THIS STORY!
> 
> SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION!
> 
> Check out my original story: Calamity Zero.
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/439380219-calamity-zero-prologue

"Malik, your home is just simply amazing!" A woman exclaimed, complementing the Al-Sayf's home. Her sparkling green eyes scanned the off white marble coloured walls, decorated with priceless pieces of art. The man and woman stopped in front a painting in the middle of the long hall for a brief moment. It was a portrait of owners of the home, Malik and Altair, on their wedding day exchanging their vows. She could make out the small highlight of a teardrop gliding down Malik's cheek as Altair read out his written vows. Their suits were a dusty black colour, both with a red rose and red handkerchief in the pocket. Their ties were made of black silk. They stood under an arch, a bird flying overhead and the sun setting, glowing between them with vibrant pinks and oranges.

Malik could remember their wedding clearly. Although they didn't have a lot of money back then, they made it work. Together saved for almost three years while still paying for Malik's college tuition and Altair's ever increasing medical bill.

There were almost 200 guests watching them under the sun lit arch. It was decorated different colour roses of red white, laced with vines and green leaves. The waiting guests listened to Altair's trembling voice as he read off of his crumpled parchment paper. They were blessed to hear the sound of his voice that Malik was able to hear every day and night.

The woman had an arm linked with the Arabic man's as he led her through his lodging. Her heels clacked against the mahogany floors. "Thank you, Sofia, that's very kind," Malik smiled down at the short, tanned woman, "but really, you should thank my husband, Altair. He ensures everything looks beautiful."  
Malik led Sofia to the party they had quietly left. The woman looked around the crowded foyer. All of the guests were officials and famous people. Each of them had some sort of connection to Al-Sayf Industries. They wore extravagant gowns and expensive suits. Some were actors or models that advertised for him, some business partners or supporters. There were very few company employees, such as Sofia.

"May I ask where Altair is? I haven't seen him all evening." Sofia bit her lip, worrying about Altair. She could remember when she first seen Altair at the company. He was dropping  
off a folder for Malik. When Malik reached out to cup Altair's cheek to kiss his husband, he flinched away. She could see a string of bruises around his neck that resembled hands and his cheek had a slight blue-green pigment that looked like Altair had tried to cover it with concealer or a foundation too light for his skin. It took everything in her being not to confront them, fearing she would lose her job or Altair would be hurt again. She decided to watch them. If anything indicated that there was something wrong, she would call social services.

Malik's jaw tightened at the question. His eyes darted around the room while his cheeks warmed to a light pink, almost unnoticeable in the dim light and over his dark skin. Think, Malik, think!

"He's staying with a friend out of town, a guys night so to speak." Altair was know to indulge in a poker game or two. He and his friends used to get together every Friday night before he had gotten married.

Malik looked into the crowd, then his leather wrist watch. He bit his lip and looked to the front of the crowd. "It's time for my speech." Sofia shrugged and continued to the crowd. She knew something was wrong. All she needed was the evidence.

Malik took a glass of champagne. He took a silver spoon and made his way to the front of the room. He tapped the silverware against the clear crystal. He took a deep breath as the guests turned their attention to the front of the room. Malik stood on the stage, in front of the live performance.

"Well, what can I say? Five years ago today I started this business with my best friends in a dingy garage. Six years ago, my husband finished paying for my college education so this company could be a reality." There were cheers from the center of the crowd. Malik put up his hand to silence them. "Four years ago we hit it big! Our efforts payed off. Our services and products were sold all over the globe, the demand for supply growing larger by the day.

"Today we celebrate the fifth year of Al-Sayf Industries. I have to thank each and every one of you for your contribution. Without your help, none of this would be possible."

~*~

Two days later, Altair came by the office. He had sunglasses covering his amber eyes, a light grey knitted scarf around his neck and a black blazer on his shoulders. His jean's didn't match his attire, nor did his shoes. ((http://www.polyvore.com/desmonds_outfit/set?id=181754572 ))

"At least he tried," Sofia thought, "but I guess you can't take the boy away from his mix-matched style."

The Arabic man came to the front desk. "I'm just dropping off Malik's documents... again." He smiled softly at her. His bottom lip seemed swollen. It was much more rest and thick than it was a week prior. A bad cover up job with concealer attempted to hide a soft bruise on his nose and under his sun glasses. It was purple and angry looking.

"Okay..." Sofia didn't feel right letting him go up there alone. It was obvious that he was trying to hide his body from any unwanted attention. His attempts didn't work though. She could see it. Sofia took out her phone from her purse and dialed a number.

Altair passed by Sofia's desk and left down the hall. There were a number of cubical for the office workers. He limped passed them all to the end of the hall. A nice oak door with a name tag in the center marked his destination. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He waited for an answer.

"Come in." An accented voice spoke coolly.

Altair opened the door and entered the room. The floor was a sleek black hard wood and the walls a creamy grey. Diplomas was hung on the wall in a straight line. In the center of the room there was a mahogany desk. A computer monitor and thin white keyboard sat on one corner of the desk. On the other was a pile of paperwork. A man sat behind the desk. He had glasses sitting on the end of his nose as he typed on the keyboard.

"Did you bring the documents?" He asked, not bothering to look up from the monitor. He tapped the back space a few times.

"Yes, love." He reached over the desk, suppressing a wince as he did so.

"Get over it," Malik snapped. He muttered under his breath, snatching the manila folder. He flipped through the papers to be sure it was the right one, then set it down on his desk.

Altair waved his good-bye and made his way to the door. As he was about to turn the knob, Malik's voice rang out, "I'm coming home early tonight, have supper ready for me."  
The light skinned Syrian man nodded, about to leave the office, when the door opened. Sofia came in with a smile and fixing her slightly wrinkled clothes. She was obviously nervous about something. "Altair, someone is on the phone for you, I need you to come with me." Her nails tapped against a folder anxiously. He nodded again and followed her.

~*~

Instead of taking him to the front desk, she lead him to a conference room, one with no windows to the other cubicles. His heart rate quickened and his body heat seemed to increase ten fold. He was tempted to take off his jacket, but he thought against it. Altair could feel his body shiver. Malik had been caught.

Sofia sat down across the table from him, her nails tapping against the table. She had her phone on her lap, someone on the other line.

"Have I done something wrong?" His foreign accent became thick and heavy. His words were hard to understand over the phone.

"No, you've done nothing wrong... but, I need you to tell me what happened last night or a few days ago." She said softly and sweetly. Sofia tried to get him to trust her. She smiled sweetly. When Sofia noticed that Altair was still defensive, she sighed. "I can see the bruises." He shook so violently his knees hit the table. His eyes were wide open as he stared at her though his sun glasses. "Now, will you please take off your glasses, your jacket, and tell me what happened."

He looked down at his shoes and slipped his aviators off of his face. He looked up into her eyes. His honey brown eyes were bloodshot, the left one was swollen. He untied the scarf around his neck. A hand-like bruise was dark and violent looking. It was red, purple, blue and different shades of green and yellow. Next he took off his jacket. A bruise stretched up his arm unevenly, like he was rammed into a wall or door frame.

Altair's lips were in a tight line before he decided to speak. "I deserved it. I dropped a glass on the carpet that Malik had installed two days ago." His fingers twitched in his lap. "B-but this isn't bad. When I still worked it was worse." He gave a reassuring smile. "I used to have to go to the hospital after every performance or video."  
"What did you used to do?" She asked, thinking it was something like BDSM pornography or had a Dominant that took advantage of him for money.

"I was a Parkour runner, with a barista job on the side. That's how I met Malik." He smiled down into his hands as he remembered meeting Malik at the coffee shop, a few days after his last video. He had fallen from a three story building in the last video he made, and he was somehow still up and kicking.

"He had eventually asked me out. We continued to go out though out my Parkour career until he persuaded me to quit. And eventually he had me quit my job at "Urban Ground." That was when the company really took off."

Sofia listened to him speak, her eyes watching his scarred lip. "How often does this happen?"

"As often as I need it, when I misbehave. I need to be punished." He fidgeted. "I-I need to get home, supper isn't going to prepare itself." His chair scraped against the floor. 

"Thank you.. for making me tell. I didn't know how long I could keep this a secret." He put on his accessories and walked out of the room.  
Sofia lifted her phone to her ear. "Did you get all that?"

The man on the other line answered right away. "Yes. Thank you for the call. We will send out a Social Services Agent tomorrow morning."

~*~

Altair sat at the island bar-stool silently in the kitchen as Malik at in the dining room. He waited for his husband to call him to take his plate back to the kitchen and clear the table. He isn't allowed to eat with his spouse unless they have company or it's a special occasion. The Syrian man was surprised he hadn't been called upon yet as he had over cooked the carrots. They were mushy and didn't have any crunch, just what Malik hated. His spouse preferred crunchy and hard, yet still slightly soft.

With a sigh, decided to clean the kitchen of the mess he had made preparing Malik's meal. There were scrapes over the counter, splattered water on the stove from it boiling over. He threw away the scraps into the trash bin and wiped the stove down (once it had cooled down of course).

Altair remembered the way they were before they got married, before the business really took off. He worked as he pleased. He didn't have to worry about anything but another trip to the hospital every other week. Malik took care of him. He took care of Malik. He gave up his one way of truly escaping humanity for this man. He didn't want to give it up so easily, but he did it because he loved Malik. 

"Atair, baby, you gotta stop." Malik whispered while they lie in Malik's mattress. The men didn't need much. It was a little hard on Altair to get up and down for the mattress as it lied on the floor. The bedroom was a ugly white-yellow colour with water damage on the roof. The floor boards were rotting and would creak when stepped on. The walls were paper thin. All the residents could hear what was going on in the apartment next door.

Malik was on his side, nursing his lovers bruised cheek. He smacked his face on the corner of a wall. He didn't think much of it and continued to run. Altair was fixated on getting the funding he needed to pay off Malik's debt. He didn't care how badly he fucked up his face or how high he fell from a building. He wanted to make himself and his lover happy.  
The Syrian Free-runner sighed softly. They'd been over this time and time again. And time and time again, Altair would refuse to quit. There was just something about the freedom of running from building to building that was refreshing. All he had to worry about was not falling or landing on another person. He didn't have the responsibility of taxes or the daily torment of eviction notices.

"Babe, you know why I can't do that," he said, trying to explain his reasoning to the college student. The darker skinned man shook his head, clambering over Altair's hips. He arched his back downward to kiss his soft pink lips.

"Please quit? I don't want to wake up one morning from a phone call telling me that you're gone." Malik looped his arms around the male, rewarded with a small kiss on his nose.

"I assure you, you will never get that call, I'm careful." Altair smiled reassuringly. "Besides, I'm too awesome to fall!" To his knowledge, Malik had no clue how many times he'd fallen from a building or how he'd been pushed off of a skyscraper, only able to hold onto a shallow windowsill to keep him from plummeting the last of the seven stories.

Malik kissed him softly. "Don't get cocky, you will jinx yourself." He smiled sweetly. The men lied in bed together for what felt like hours until they fell asleep.  
That night they made love. It was hot, almost suffocating. But it was the most pleasure he had ever felt. Being filled by Malik made him feel complete. Gasping for air never felt so good. He would bite his lip until it split. His lover would lick up the dribbling crimson liquid.

Altair smiled to himself as he washed the dishes. Those moments were truly his favourite. Having his lover so close to his body while they lay on the dirty sheets and the floor creak beneath them as they move. Kissing to drown out the sound of the neighbors crying baby. The little things were enough to make him happy, and the little things still make him happy. But those moments are far and few between. But, Altair always thought with time, he and Malik could learn to love again, they way they used to. Their love wasn't broken, just bent.

He slathered the rag over the dirty dish. He hummed softly to himself, closing his eyes softly. He finished cleaning the grime off of the dish and placed it on the drying rack. He had only three dishes to clean next. He pulled the three into the soapy water. The bubbles crawled up his arms as he wiggled around in the water to find a utensil or cup.

"Altair!" Malik called, know finished with his meal. Altair dried his hands on a tea towel. He pulled his large apron over his head and onto the counter. He silently made his way into the dining room. He bowed his head in submission.

"Yes, habibi?" He smiled, not looking his husband in the eyes.

"Take my plate to the kitchen," He sighed, getting up from the table and leaving for his study. He had bills to pay, payroll to make. Anything that had to do with paperwork and his employees, he needed to do.

~*~

After sometime, Altair had finished cleaning everything in the kitchen and dining area. He wiped the sweat off of his brow. "A shower might be a good idea," he thought as he smelt his t-shirt. It was gross and sour smelling.

He carried himself up the stairs and into the bathroom. The carpet beneath his feet felt so good. He was standing on hardwood and tiles all day. Really, just a moment to lie down would be nice.

Finally reaching the bathroom, he opened the door and sleepily waddled over to the shower. He stripped himself of his sweaty clothing, letting it drop in a heap on the floor. He turned on the faucet, but on his way down to do so, he felt himself loose his balance. He was tired. It was bound to happen at some point.

Just as he was about to hit the side of the tub, something caught him. Altair looked up to see his savior. It was Malik. "You have to be more careful," he teased. The younger man blushed deeply, staring at the floor.

Malik stood Altair up and turned him so he was facing him. He leaned in, closing his eyes. His lips softly moved against Altair's. They had always fit one another like a puzzle piece. His large hand rested against his cheek, the other on Altair's hip. The lighter skinned man snaked his arms around Malik's neck. They backed into the shower slowly, not daring to break away from their embrace.

~*~

"AH! Yes!!" Altair moaned out. His entire body trembled with excitement as he felt his lover brutally thrust inside of his body. His nail's buried themselves into the soft flesh beneath him. He lifted himself off of the bed and slammed his hips down to meet Malik's thrusts. "Malik!" He screamed. The amount of pleasure he felt was immeasurable to what he felt when free running.

"Come on baby," Malik encouraged him, grasping the younger man's length and pumping him hard. The man bit his lip in attempt not to moan too loudly. He didn't want to mask Altair's candy-sweet moans. The sound of his pleasure would be all he needed to survive.

With a final grunt and thrust, Malik climaxed inside of Altair. The lighter skinned man's mouth hung open. He could feel the warmth of the fluid filling his body. His knees buckled together as close as they could from around Malik, his shoulders shrugged up in pleasure.

~*~

Altair sighed heavily. His head rested against Malik's toned chest. His hand cupped around Malik's ribs. The older man had an arm wrapped around his partner's spent body. They had small smiles playing on their lips.

Together they fell asleep. Unaware that in the morning, Altair would be missing from Malik's arms and from their home.

~*~

"Tell us what happened, when did this all start?" The agent said, his elbows resting on the table. Altair stayed quiet while he blankly stared at the cream coloured wall in front of him. Altair had both hands in his messy hair.

"Sir, we need to know what happened so we can press charges." He stayed quiet, blinking hard to keep back tears. Altair hadn't come to grips with what happened. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Malik. He wasn't ready to let go of all they had together. He sniffed softly.

"Why?" A simple question. His accented voice was hardly audible. He looked the man blonde man in the eyes.

"We need a true statement from you, face to face." He said softly. The man tried to keep the male calm. "Now, start from the beginning."

~*~

The one year anniversary. Altair and Malik were celebrating the one year of success of the company. They laughed and talking about what they were doing in their jobs. Malik reached across the table, taking his husband's hand. "Baby, I'm sorry to interrupt your amazing day," He smiled at the beginning, then his lips fell into a straight line. "But no one gives to shits about a coffee shop."

Altair laughed it off. "I suppose you're right."

~*~

Later that night, they sat on their white leather couch. They embraced passionately. His long finger unbuttoned Malik's grey dress shirt. He untucked it from his dress-pants and slipped it off of his shoulders. The older male growled, pushing him against the couch. Altair's head smacked the hard armrest. He winced as his neck bent at an awkward angle. Malik gave a satisfied smirked, then dropped him to the floor.  
He laughed and smiled with every injury he made, even if it was small. As time went on, it was more than just a little push. Push came to shove, shoves came to pushes down the stairs.

~*~

The agent wrote down his story in a yellow papered note book. His writing looked like swirls and loops. Little accent's decorated the top of E's and A's. He lifted his hand from the paper and looked Altair in the eye. "Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Al-sayf."  
Altair nodded, getting up from his seat. He stood in the doorway. "Can I use a phone please?" The man nodded.

"The front desk will let you use one." The Syrian man left the agent alone and to the lobby.

"Mom? I.. I need to come home."

~*~

Over the next several months, Altair healed. He filed for divorce, Malik was charged, but hadn't gotten any jail time because he had money. Altair started working again. Al-Sayf Industries was losing money. A journalist or two had found Altair at work and asked some questions, he didn't respond to any of them.  
Altair still loved Malik, he longed to have the old Malik back to him, but knew that was impossible. The divorce was final. He wasn't going to go crawling back to him after all that he'd gone through. 

The male sat on the ledge of a skyscraper, a cigarette in between his lips. He came here when he was stressed. His best friend, Connor, usually came with him, his camera in his pocket.

"Are we going to shoot a video?" He asked the Syrian. Altair curved one corner of his lips and let the cigarette drop to the cement, eight stories below. He pulled his legs from the ledge.

"From here, across traffic, a little ways into the garage." Connor smiled, giving a thumbs up at the planned course. "Don't fall behind this time."  
Within seconds the male took off running. He picked up momentum, taking off across the flat roof. He pulled himself onto a short power line. Altair caught his balance, bent his knees and left across the on speeding vehicles. He flipped as he reached the next building, landing on his feet.  
Altair didn't waist time to regain his balance as he sprinted across the building, jumping to another. He thrust his body across the gap, using his hand to push off of the ledge. The building was two stories shorter. The parking Garage was two blocks away. "Keep up Connor!" He shouted. The buildings where like his personal stairs. They dropped level by level.

He dropped from the last building, Sprinting into Traffic. Altair kicked himself off of the ground and kicked himself off of a vehicle door and onto the roof of another. He leaped from car to car, finally reaching the garage. He launched his body off of the hood of a car. His fingers hooked onto a ledge of the first level. He hauled himself to the second then the third, fourth! All the way to the top. He flipped onto his feet. But, lost his balance and fell onto his back on the cement.  
He laughed to himself. How long had it been since he had genuinely laughed? It had been so long the sound and feeling felt foreign to him. Although he didn't know how it felt anymore, it hoped to keep that feeling.

"Hey, are you okay? Dio, you're a strong one, aren't you." A man with bronze skin smiled down at him. He had long dark brown hair in a ponytail and was dressed in simple baggy jeans and graphic T-shirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The man's dark brown eyes made Altair's heart flutter.

"I'm Ezio, your's?"

"Altair." He blushed softly.

"Hey, wanna get some coffee or something?" Ezio's cheeks matched the pigment of pink that Altair had. The Syrian man nodded, smiling.

As they left the Garage, the faint voice of Connor yelling: "Altair! Wait for me!" Could be heard.


End file.
